Every Time You Move I Let a Little More Show
by kabensi
Summary: For Faberry Week's Nerd Quinn and Cheerio Rachel prompt.


Quinn sits in the otherwise empty upstairs dining area of a small deli at 43rd and 10th, her nose buried in her copy of _Pride and Prejudice and Zombies_. It's a Saturday morning, and she isn't due back in New Haven until Tuesday, because it's a holiday weekend, but Rachel has a rehearsal for one of her senior showcase productions.

So, reading.

She actually likes being here, in the city, with a little time to herself and the fact that she's spend small chunks of time waiting on Rachel to finish a rehearsal or a class or a workshop over the last couple of years has allowed Quinn to cultivate her own love of New York. It's enough that she's definitely moving here after graduation. Which, would have happened, anyway, given the fact that she and Rachel have been officially dating since the summer before sophomore year. Or, as Kurt calls it, "The day lesbian Jesus finally let them see the light."

Quinn still isn't sure who lesbian Jesus is, but Brittany assures her that it's Joe Hart. But then, Brittany also seems to think Joe is her ex-girlfriend.

But there is no room for exes, not in a world where Rachel Berry appears in the upper seating area of the Gold Star Deli, wearing a red and while split-pleated skirt and midriff-bearing sleeveless polyester top. Quinn peeks around the edge of the table to see if- yeah, there are a pair of spotless white Adidas Cheer Flyers on Rachel's feet. Her eyes wander upward from there, along the impossible length of Rachel's legs, past that skirt toward a taut and tan stomach, then up to see just the swell of her breasts underneath the Truman logo where her eyes linger until Rachel clears her throat and Quinn's attention is redirected as she peers over the top of her glasses to look at her girlfriend's face.

"Hi," she says. Even though the school name is different and the uniform is slightly varied, it's uncanny, particularly given the way Rachel is posed with her hands on her hips. She would have made an excellent Cheerio. Even the high pony is absolutely flawless.

"Well?" Rachel spins, making the skirt flare out.

Quinn knows the numbers Rachel has been working on for this performance are from Bring It On: The Musical. She just wasn't aware that there would be such dedication to authenticity. Then again, this is Rachel.

"It's good. It's really good. You look... really good."

Rachel smiles and glides around the table to where Quinn's sitting before she pushes the table aside and drops herself right onto Quinn's lap. "I'm really starting to understand why you got away with so much when you wore one of these."

Quinn's arms loop around Rachel's waist. "Well, I've traded my powers in for good, now. I hope you don't end up corrupted."

Rachel kisses Quinn's cheek. "I have a half an hour for lunch, then I have two more hours. But then I'll be finished."

"Where do you want to go? There's that place up the street with the salads you like. And I can get one of those caramel sea salt latt-" But Rachel's now kissing her neck and it's very hard to concentrate on potential coffee orders.

"Can we go back to the part about corruption?"

"You... are you serious?" Rachel's already on her feet and pulling Quinn toward the small rectangular sign that points toward the bathroom. "Okay."

The restroom is barely bigger than a closet, but it's clean and smells like vanilla, so there's no question about what's going to happen when Rachel slides the barrel lock over looks up at Quinn. "Just one rule. I cannot, in any way, compromise the uniform."

"Then you should probably take your spankies off, right now." Quinn's hands are already up under the skirt, but Rachel takes the lead and pushes the undergarment down until she's holding them in one hand. In her other hand, she has a fistful of Quinn's hair as she pulls them together for a heated kiss.

One thing Quinn has learned since Rachel's move to New York is that the girl she knew in Lima, the sweet and sometimes naive Rachel Berry has a very sexy, very racy layer just beneath the surface.

Quinn's glasses are in the way, so she reaches up and takes them off, setting them on the edge of the sink. She's been wearing them more often, because they're a change from who she was in Lima. Also, Rachel seems to find them sexy. Unless they're obstructing personal contact, like now.

There's a tug on her dress and when she glances down, she sees Rachel stuffing the spankies in the pocket. "What-" But then it's obvious that this is happening because Rachel needs a free hand to tug up the bottom of the dress and trail her fingers up Quinn's inner thigh.

They're on a schedule and Quinn's determined to abide by it. She doesn't want Rachel to be late. She also knows following strict timelines turns Rachel on. Though, given what she's now feeling with her fingertips, Rachel's already very much aroused.

But so is Quinn. "Looks like you're a fan of the uniform," Rachel says, low in her ear, as she rubs Quinn through the cotton of her panties.

"Looks like you're a fan of public sex," Quinn counters, her own fingers slipping easily along the abundant wetness between Rachel's legs. Rachel's back hits the locked door and she pulls Quinn tightly against her. "You want me?"

Rachel nods and there's a breathy "uh huh" that's enough for Quinn to know that there really isn't room for teasing, this time around. She pushes two fingers in and Rachel's back arches up off the door. The hand between Quinn's legs stops and Quinn takes the opportunity to grab Rachel's wrist and remove it, because the angle is awkward and, right now, this is all about getting Rachel off, anyway. She pins the arm up over Rachel's head and there are brown eyes looking up at her, trying to narrow in upset, but Quinn just shakes her head.

"Later, baby," she says, before nipping at Rachel's bottom lip. There's no protest from Rachel, only a rocking of the hips with each stroke of Quinn's fingers.

In no time, Rachel's panting and her eyes squeeze shut. Quinn takes the opportunity to suck on the spot under Rachel's ear and, whoops, she's accidentally left a light hickey and she'll probably hear about it as soon as Rachel regains her ability to speak.

"Quinn... I'm... baby... fuck, I'm coming..."

Well, to speak in actual sentences, anyway.

She nuzzles Rachel's neck as her girlfriend descends from her high and, sure enough, once Rachel's breathing has evened and she relaxes against the door, there's a slap to her arm.

"What's that for?"

"You know what for. I have to go back to rehearsal and now I have a hickey!"

Quinn studies the lightly darkened spot on Rachel's neck. "It's not that bad." She kisses the bruised area. "I'm sorry. I didn't really plan on it."

"You just want everyone to know that I'm taken."

"I think the fact that you introduced me to all your friends two years ago as your stunning and brilliant Ivy League girlfriend probably gave that away." Quinn presses a kiss to Rachel's lips. "And that time Brody caught you sexting me."

"He still looks at me funny every time he sees me with my phone. Though, that may be more because we were attempting that Wicked roleplay scenario more than the fact that you were talking about going d-"

"Rach, baby, if you want to actually leave this room and get back on time, you need to stop talking about it."

"I could be late."

"You could never be late. You live for things like punctuality, charts, and graphs."

Rachel laughs and drapes both of her arms over Quinn's shoulders. "You really get me."

"I've known you long enough, I'd better." Quinn kisses her again. "I love you."

"I love you, too." There's a grin from Rachel, the kind that lights up the room- no, the world. Quinn's world, anyway. "Now, may I have my underpants back, please?"


End file.
